


I'll See You at The End of November

by yarboyandy



Category: Batman (1966), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick speaks Romanian for a second hell yea, Father-Son Relationship, bruce calls dick his son because!!! im soft, so u might wanna watch that first for context if u havent already, this is in the universe of the animated 1966 movies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 17:29:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16520849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yarboyandy/pseuds/yarboyandy
Summary: After being Kicked out by a mind controlled Bruce, Dick tries to move on with his life.





	I'll See You at The End of November

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all, long time no see! Sorry about that, I've been super busy with our musical (urine town, I'm working on sound!) that and school that I haven't had time to write.
> 
> This isn't my best work, but I've been working on this between techs and classes, so I feel like y'all deserve somethin'. Please tell me what you think in the comments :^)
> 
> the other title for this was going to be "Pantsuit Sasquatch", based off the song of the same name. It was the main inspiration for this fic- so go check it out!
> 
> some other fic Ideas I've had were a recently adopted Dick becomes sick, leaving his new guardian to attempt the whole "parenting" thing, another trans Robin fic since my last one did well, A "Batman Meets Archie" comic since I'm currently reading it, and a Green Hornet one, since I've finished the show and comics! Make sure to mention which Idea you like best in ur comment as well :^)
> 
> See y'all soon!

Part of Him felt like this should have been a surprise. 

But in all honesty, it wasn’t. 

Dick knew this day was coming, Bruce had to get sick of him sooner or later. A millionaire playboy doesn’t keep some circus kid in their life forever; Dick was surprised he even lasted this long, but you can’t milk charity money and good press out of an orphan for too long anyways. Bruce Wayne didn’t want or need a son, he didn’t have to say it to make it clear.

No matter what clothing Dick wore, no matter how good his grades were, or how hard he tried at anything, he would never be considered, or consider himself, worthy of being a Wayne. He was Circus trash, a kicked puppy, a waste of time. Bruce Wayne’s arts and craft project that was held together by elmer's glue and macaroni. Something you put on the fridge for a few days before quietly slipping it under an old paper plate in the trash can. 

Dick didn’t want to be sad, he couldn’t be sad. He has anticipated this moment since the day Bruce adopted him. But tears still managed to prickle at his eyes as he sat alone in his new apartment, the sounds of the city ringing in the background, trying to convince himself that all those memories he had with Bruce were all excuses for good press.

_“He let you in, even though you knew he’d kick you out.” His head told him. “You trusted him, even though you knew this would happen.”_

The days passed slowly, November was colder than usual, he patted himself on the back for grabbing his father's old fleece lined jacket that was now practically glued to his back. School was becoming his only pass time, as Dick tried to avoid going home to that disgusting apartment more and more. His fashion turned from sweaters and slacks to jeans and long sleeved shirts, figuring out that if he could look muggable, he shouldn’t. His old instincts started coming back to him, living off a diet of stale uncooked ramen and lumpy fruit found behind the supermarket.

He avoided eye contact with Batman when ever he saw him on the street, which was becoming a recurring event for an odd reason. On every corner, inside the window of a shop, hell even in the small apartment building. The all too familiar blue, pointed ears, or a small lense flare from the plate on his utility belt. Dick decided to tell himself it was due to the fact that he hadn’t taken his Valium tablets in a few days. Part of his brain hoped Batman was looking for him, but he knew it was unrealistic. 

“Batman doesn’t care about useless teenagers like you.” He muttered to himself, digging his chin deeper into the jackets collar as he walked away from his former foster father. “He never did.”

Dick had to hold out until January, when Haly’s came back in town. Robin disappeared entirely from the streets, The costume now sat in the closet collecting dust.

Getting a job would be a good idea too, something else to fill the newly founded free time. Despite somewhat liking not having to do some weird activity every second of the day with Bruce, he discovered that all that beautiful free time he wished after doing homework was filled with stomach sinking depression. 

sleep was something he tried taking up, but without his medication, the nightmares got worse. The images of his parents mixed in with Alfred and Bruce, expressing how much of a disappointment he was, was overwhelming to say the least. Often he would wake up gasping for air, tangled and held down by his beds thin blankets. He could barely hold himself up with his shaking arms as he tried to calm himself down. Sleep went on the back burner in favor of training for the circus, jumping between the rooftops of his neighborhood. 

\----

Dick took the risk of sneaking back to the Wayne Manor to steal is bike one late night. He did his best to ignore the outline of Bruce in the living room, watching Gotham Palace. It was hard for him to think that he used to sit in the chair beside Bruce, reading a book or watching along too. He shook his head, picking the lock from his bike.

He found a job at a family owned European supermarket, delivering food. Under the name John Lloyd, he hid his growing hair under an old baseball cap and his vision became slightly tinted by the sunglasses that covered his eyes. Now speaking in Romani, his cover up was perfect. Dick Grayson, ward of Bruce Wayne was gone. Bruce probably could say he shipped him off to a boarding school in Bolivia, saying he became too much to take care of. Batman could say Robin died in an extreme accident. He didn’t care, or at least told himself he didn’t. it wasn’t like Bruce was his father. He didn’t have to impress him anymore, he was going back to his real family in a few months anyways.

But standing over his bed, he went through the motion of ballet. He tapped his fingers on the beds metal frame as if it was piano keys. He had ran out if excuses for these habits, Dick didn’t like ballet that much, and he only learned piano because Bruce made him. He didn’t have to do this anymore, he didn’t even need to go to school anymore if he didn’t want to. Even if he got a full ride to college, he still wouldn’t be able to support himself. But still, he found himself doing the things that Bruce wanted him to, still having a need for some kind of praise or validation. What was the point of his progression if no one was going to be proud?

“But how can I focus on my progressions when Batman Progress down a path of darkness?” He cursed at himself, leaning against the bed frame. He couldn’t just leave the city in pieces before he left, allowing the Bat to just brand the city with his name. But quickly, he put the puzzle together. “Wait a second…”

Despite all odds, Robin came back. Even after telling himself over and over again that batman didn’t need a partner, Catwoman and Robin teamed up to take Batman down. There was a brief moment where he debated changing his hero persona to something else, he considered the name ‘nightwing’, but decided that since this was his last outing as Robin, it was best to let him go out in a blaze of glory.

That blaze of glory almost came twice, both times being slightly more gruesome than the last. Being dropped into the Batmobiles power source was not nearly as scary as coming face to face with twenty copies of the man himself. 

“This time I’m going to take care of you with my bare hands.” Batman punched his fist into his palm. Robin felt his stomach tighten, his head screaming at him.

_He wants you dead. He wants you dead. He wants you dead._

 

Batman didn’t get to do what he wanted though, as Alfred came at the last moment and saved the day. That's the only thing that stopped him.

Robin didn’t say anything as they chased after the last few bad guys. He did his best to not look at Batman while he fought, his brain shouting that Batman was coming for him next. He was silent and he fought, just like Batman. There was a split second where Batman looked over at him, with the familiar shine of pride in his eyes, causing the corners of Robins mouth to perk up. But quickly pushed the warm feeling in his chest, convincing himself that it was fake. Batman didn’t need him anyways.

By the end of the night, the day was saved. Robin watched as the bad guys were handcuffed and taken back to jail. Batman apologized to the commissioner, explaining the situation. Robin carefully stepped back into the shadows, running back to his small apartment. Now he could stop worrying about Bruce and let him live the rest of his life without the burden of a child. Dick was able to solve all of Bruce’s problems, which included himself. Soon, Dick would be flying on the trapeze again.

\----  
It has been five days since Batman went back to normal. The city had definitely noticed, as people began repopulating the streets and stores. With Thanksgiving rolling around, Dick was spending most of his free time delivering groceries. He wondered what Wayne Manor would be doing for Thanksgiving, his stomach growled at the thought of Alfred’s turkey. His stomach growled thinking of any of Alfred’s foods, seeing how his current diet consisted of fruit with the mold cut off, stale crackers, and dry ramen noodles.

“Ne vedem mâine, domnule khulai.” Dick nodded to his boss, walking out the shops door. “Spune-i copiilor că eu spun hei”

“O noapte bună, Johnny.” His boss waved from behind the counter. Dick gave a half smile, but regretted it due to the giant bruise on his cheek that twitched in pain.

It was twilight out as Dick biked home, the cold November winds biting at the small cuts that littered his face. He sucked his lips in, attempting to protect the jagged cut that went across both ends. He ignored the protest in his right leg as he peddled, removing his left hand from the handlebar to apply some pressure on his aching ribs. 

“You deserved this anyways.” he muttered to himself. “A punishment for trusting him.”

Only one two more months. Less than that now, fifty two more days left in Gotham. Three more paychecks to collect, maybe an extra if his boss felt bad for him. Haley would probably be ecstatic to have Dick back, not thinking twice about why Dick ran away from Bruce. Then Dick maybe could stop thinking about Bruce too.

_He tried to kill you idiot, forget about him. He wasn’t your dad, you weren’t his son. Stop being so miserable about him._

Dick frowned, rounding the corner to his apartment building. He kept telling himself to forget about Bruce, he kept saying to himself that he was over him. All those memories of them that made his eyes water were just for him to have good press. All those accidental “I love you”’s were him being recorded. There was a camera in the television when he fell asleep, his head curled into Bruce’s side, Bruce’s fingers pushing through his hair. It didn’t mean anything to Bruce, it shouldn’t mean anything to him.

Dick itched the nape of his neck at the memory, the phantom hand of Bruce traced the back of his head. Removing his hat, He brushed his now long bangs out of his face, pushing the rest of his messy hair back with it. Greasy was one way to describe it, he hadn’t gotten the chance to properly wash it since Sunday. The first thing he decided to do was take a sink shower once he got home.

His plans were most likely going to be disrupted, as his door to his apartment clicked open when he pushed the key in.

“Fuck.” He muttered to himself. Swearing was something he began to pick up again, knowing if a swear was ever muttered in Wayne Manor, he’d probably taste soap in his mouth forever. 

Reaching into his pocket, he gripped out his small bat-knife. He twisted the door knob, thrusting the door open to let the intruder know he was home.

“Who the hel-“ Dick started, but his throat closed up the second the room came into full view.

“Dick!” A relieved voice sighed.

“Bruce.” Dick said, stunned. Bruce practically ran him over, closing the large gap between them by a few more feet.

“Oh thank god, I’ve been looking for days- why did you run off after that fight? You needed medical attention- no one says they’ve seen you or Robin- I was so worried. Is this where you’ve been living? Oh god It’s so dusty in here- did you bring your inhaler? Or any of your medication? Oh lord your hair- it’s so long, you need a haircut and-“

Bruce made a move to place an affectionate hand through Dick’s hair, but Dick quickly snatched it. Bruce blinked in surprise.

“Sorry it’s just…” Dick let Bruce’s hand go. “After that whole incident and all-I’m still a bit on edge.”

“Understandably.” Bruce nodded. “But you saved me- we fought together, why didn’t you come home?”

Dick opened his mouth to say something, but his brain couldn’t find the right words. 

“I-“ dick stammered. “I felt that you kicking me out was the right choice.”

“What?” Bruce scrunched his face, confused. “Because you were scared I was going to hurt you?”

“No, I expected this long before this all happened. I felt like this was going to happen anyways, Millionaires don’t keep circus trash for sons.” 

Bruce’s face softened, his mouth twisted into a frown.

“Dick, I would never kick you out.” He said softly, he hesitated before moving to place a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “Just because we aren’t blood related doesn’t mean you aren’t my son.”

“I mean by the courts words yea, but I’m not like you, I’m not good enough for that. I can’t do the whole ‘millionaire’ thing.”

“Dick.”

“No matter what I do, the grades I get, or the parties I sit through, I can’t change who I’m supposed to be. You deserve a real family, a real partner.”

“Dick-“

“And partner- Batman deserves someone whose actually good at this stuff. Someone who doesn’t weigh you down- You deserve better tha-“

“Richard!” Dick was cut off by Bruce jerking him back by his shoulder. “Don’t you dare say those things about yourself, you are more than ‘good enough’ to be my son and partner. You are real family, and you don’t have to do anything to prove it. Even if you had to, you’ve proved yourself time and time again.”

Bruce pulled Dick into a hug. For a moment, Dick wasn’t sure what to do, his arms awkwardly floating above his sides. It took a moment to realize how _warm_ the hug was, as if it began to melt away the hard exterior Dick built up over the last two weeks.

“I love you alright? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, the only thing I’ve done right.” Bruce said, his hand rubbing Dick’s back. Dick smiled, knowing Bruce had picked that up from him when he was comforting his Father. “Can we talk the rest of this out at home?”

“Only if Alfred has dinner for me.” Dick grinned, wrapping his arms around Bruce. “I haven’t had a real meal in forever.”

“Alfred probably will have a thanksgiving dinner ready for you.” Bruce snorted. “He actually uh...grounded Batman until you came home.”

“ are you serious?!” Dick let out a laugh for the first time in a long time. “He can do that?”

“An angry Alfred is a very very very scary Alfred.” Bruce shuttered. “Coming home without finding you every night was worse than fighting Joker and The Riddler- at once.”

“Oh god.” Dick dramatically gasped. “How did you find me anyways?”

“Saw you biking from someone's house, recognized the bike and the mole placement on your face. Just to double check I asked your boss for your name- John Lloyd, combination of your Parents names. From there I just tracked you down.” Bruce said, brushing Dick’s hair back with his hand. “Christ, you need a haircut.”

“They don’t call you the world's greatest detective for nothin’, you’re lucky you found me before the Circus was back in town.” Dick smirked, pulling away. “Let's go home, I bet their playing Psycho on TV tonight.”

“You know I hate scary movies.” Bruce chuckled, grabbing Dicks bag from under the bed and throwing in the small pile of clothes that sat in the closet. “Lets focus on getting you cleaned up first and fed.”

Dick laughed softly, shaking his head. He knew not everything was fixed, and there was still some rebuilding to do. But for now, everything could be okay. Bruce was back, Alfred was back. All he needed was to be himself, and for Bruce to sometimes run his hand through his hair or give him a shoulder squeeze now and then. 

Dick knew that it was going to be hard returning back to normal for the both of them, physically and mentally. He would probably need to up his Valium to deal with the nightmares, and Robin might need to be side lined for a bit. But that was okay, for now he could forget all that and curl up on the couch with Bruce and Alfred and watch a movie. He could rest easy knowing he was good, that Bruce was good. 

That would be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Since Dick speaks Romanian in the story (and yes, I decided to do a little research before this fic, seeing as I got a few comments before about it, and I think this should be right. In a few canons he is Romani), I'll provide the two lines of translations. PLEASE TELL ME IF THESE ARE WRONG!!! I'll correct them!!!
> 
> “Ne vedem mâine, domnule khulai.” -> "I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. khulai."  
> "“Spune-i copiilor că eu spun hei”" -> "tell the kids I say hey"  
> "“O noapte bună, Johnny.” -> "good night Johnny"


End file.
